


All Work and No Play...

by faierius



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drinking, Flirting, Funny, Gladnis, M/M, Silly, Sparring, Stripping, brotherhood era, that 'oh shit' moment, tipsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16888644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faierius/pseuds/faierius
Summary: An evening of drinks and a quick trip to the training room can sure lead to some interesting revelations.





	All Work and No Play...

                “You’re sure we can be in here?”

                “Relax, Iggy. I’m in here at night all the time. Sometimes it’s the only time I can fit in a workout,” Gladiolus stated, clapping his companion on the back.

                Ignis grunted, stumbling forward a half-step. “Apparently you have no idea how to rein in your strength when you’re drunk.”

                Waving the man off, Gladio took a few steps further into the training room. “I’m not drunk. Buzzed at best.”

                Quirking a brow, Ignis smirked. “Tell that to your fancy footwork, Amicitia.” Each of the man’s steps fell just a little too wide, crossed over each other, and were a hint off-balance.

                A playful smile curved Gladio’s lips. “Okay, maybe I’m a little sloshed, but I can still take you in a fight, Twinkle Toes,” he declared with a point at Ignis. Hopping on one foot, he lifted his leg, grabbed his boot with both hands, and yanked it off. Tossing it over his shoulder, he repeated the action for the other boot.

                “Such grace!” laughed Ignis, bending down to remove his own shoes. Unlike Gladio, he set his aside neatly, still in their pair.

                Shedding his jacket and tossing it aside to suffer the same fate as his boots, Gladio stretched. His muscles rolled under his white tank top and the lines of his half-finished tattoo pulled with the movement.

                “C’mon,” he said, taking a defensive stance. “I’m hankerin’ to burn off this booze.”

                Shaking his head, Ignis folded his coat nearly and set it on top of his shoes. Rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, he joined Gladio on the mat. “Ready whenever you are,” he said, taking careful yet wobbly steps.

                Grinning, Gladio began to slowly circle Ignis. He felt off-kilter but ready to have fun. He always enjoyed his sessions with Ignis, but he took practice too seriously. Tonight was different. There was a playful heat in his foggy eyes. Gladio liked everything about it.

                Sensing his partner was distracted, Ignis made the first move. Slipping in low, he grabbed Gladio’s arm, twisted it around behind his back, then kicked the back of his knees. Unsurprisingly, the big man didn’t go down, despite his alcohol-clouded reflexes. He spun and extended his other leg to trip Ignis. The man hopped effortlessly out of the way, remaining upright.

                “Show off,” chuckled Gladio, lunging at Ignis again.

                “From a little jump?” Ignis answered, planting his hands on Gladio’s shoulders and using the momentum to carry him over the man in a shallow forward handspring. With a heavy-footed thump, he landed on the mat behind Gladio and turned. His reflexes weren’t working at their peak, and the evening’s drinks slowed his movements. Before he could complete his turn, Gladio closed the distance between them. One massive arm wrapped around his waist, lifting him, and slamming him against the mat.

                Though the air was knocked from his lungs, Ignis didn’t let the move startle him into losing. Grabbing Gladio’s arm, Ignis twisted, bringing his legs up and hooking the back of his knee around Gladio’s neck. Pushing back, he forced Gladio off him and onto his back. Flipping himself forward, he knelt in the middle of the big man’s chest and pinned his wrists to the floor above his head.

                Mouth turning upward, Gladio’s eyes roamed over Ignis. “Hate to lose, but I’m likin’ this view,” he said.

                “Mm, we’re not done yet. I’m not even winded.” Releasing Gladio’s hands, Ignis got to his feet. Pushing his hair off his forehead and readjusting his glasses, he offered the man help up.

                “If you’re willing to go again, so am I.”

                “Lose the shirt,” Ignis commanded.

                Gladio raised one thick brow. “Huh?”

                “You lose the round, you lose the shirt. Off with it.” The playful heat in his green eyes took on a different quality.

                Licking his lips, Gladio’s hands went to the hem of his top. He held Ignis’ gaze for a heartbeat before drawing it over his head. Smirking, he tossed it to the other man.

                Ignis caught the tank top with one hand and scoffed. “Perhaps I’ll keep this as a trophy.”

                “The booze is making you bold. And cocky,” Gladio observed, rolling his shoulders as he moved back toward the center of the mat.

                “Do you dislike it?” Ignis asked, tossing the tank top to rest near his shoes and coat.

                “Not at all. Feel like I’m finally getting somewhere with you.”

                Ignis’ brow twitched. “What do you mean?”

                “A guy can only take so much flirting before he wants more, Ignis,” Gladio answered, voice low. Watching the man move into place for the next round, he enjoyed the slight darkening of his cheeks.

                Ignis cleared his throat. “Yes, well, perhaps you aren’t the only one.”

                Caught off-guard by the admission, Gladio found himself at Ignis’ mercy far too quickly. One second, he was standing, staring slack-jawed at his friend, the next he was blinking up at him from the floor.

                “Come now, Gladio. You aren’t just going to _let_ me win, are you?” Ignis scolded, clicking his tongue.

                “This doesn’t count,” Gladio replied. “You used dirty tactics.”

                With a scoff, Ignis lowered his face closer to Gladio’s. “As the prince’s shield, you should know the enemy will stop at nothing on the battlefield.”

                “Well, in that case…” Gladio’s arms shot up, his hands twisting in the light fabric of Ignis’ shirt. Fast and silent, he brought his legs up as well and hefted the man into the air and over his head.

                Grunting as the air left his lungs, Ignis hit the mat hard. He rolled onto his side, getting his limbs back under him and springing to his feet. Once again, Gladio was faster. His speed couldn’t make up for his lack of agility, however, and Ignis jumped, twisting his body and rolling across Gladio’s broad back. Landing on the opposite side, he tried to off-balance the big man and failed spectacularly. Alcohol muddled thoughts allowed him to conveniently forget Gladio had pounds and inches over him, and he ended up dangling over the man’s back like a human cloak.

                Grabbing Ignis’ arm, Gladio flipped Ignis onto the man once again. He held the man’s arm and yanked him over, pinning it behind his back. Face pressed into the mat, Ignis tried to get out of the hold but was forced to relent when a knee pressed into his back.

                With a low, deep laugh, slightly breathless from their activities, Gladio put his lips close to Ignis’ ear. “Looks like it's your turn to strip.”

                Ignis gave Gladio a sideways glance, his glasses sitting askew on his nose. “Are you expecting a show?”

                Letting Ignis up, Gladio smirked. “I won’t push my luck.”

                “Good man,” Ignis replied, hands moving to the buttons of his shirt as he sat up. Deft fingers slowly slipped each button through the hole, revealing a lean, well-developed chest inch by inch.

                Gladio swallowed thickly as he watched. He could tell Ignis was trying to hide how his fingers trembled and cheeks flushed red, but the methodic, almost demure movements aroused him more than he cared to admit.

                Ignis glanced up at Gladio from under his brows, the barest hint of a smirk on his full lips as he shrugged out of his shirt.

                Eyes locked on the man as he rose to his feet, Gladio licked his lips. If Ignis was doing this on purpose, he was in trouble. He breathed out a shuddering sigh.

                Ignis’ shirt smacked him in the face.

                “If you aren’t going to pay attention, Amicitia, I’m going to claim my victory and take myself home to bed,” drolled Ignis, flicking a sweat-damp chunk of hair off his forehead.

                “Oh, I’m not letting you off that easy,” Gladio purred, folding Ignis’ shirt and setting it aside.

                “Then show me what you’re made of.”

                The young men began their third round.

                Cheeky in his next loss, Ignis removed his socks.

                Gladio nearly toppled over as he slipped out of his jeans after the following round. He nudged them aside with one foot and put his hands on his hips. Grinning, cheeks just a touch pink, he beckoned Ignis over with a quirk of his brow.

                Drinking in the sight of the nearly naked, tanned, hard-muscled, tattooed man before him intoxicated Ignis more than a few drinks could.

                “Next round could take it,” Gladio teased, half-lidded eyes catching the rapid rise and fall of Ignis’ chest as his breath came quicker.

                “Is that an invitation, Gladiolus?”

                “Why don’t you come find out?”

                Ignis did just that, and lost his slacks in the process.

                Gladio hummed a note of appreciation as he took in the sight of Ignis Scientia, almost naked, half-hard, and exuding his infuriating composure despite the color high in his cheeks.

                “Are you enjoying yourself?” Ignis teased, adjusting his glasses to disguise his line of sight. Gladio’s white boxer-briefs hid _nothing_.

                “Oh, I think we both know the answer to that.” Stretching, the half-finished wings of Gladio’s eagle tattoo seemed to come to life as his muscles pulled with movement.

                Uncertainty flashed through Ignis’ green eyes.

                Crossing his arms, Gladio stopped a handful of paces away. “Alcohol leaving your system already?”

                “Hm?”

                “The over-cautious, worried-about-what-others-think Ignis is waking up. I can see it in your eyes.

                Ignis sighed, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one leg. “Just because I’m mildly inebriated, does not mean I’ve thrown all caution to the wind. I still have reservations.”

                Moving slowly, quietly, Gladio closed the distance between them. Reaching out, he slid his fingers across Ignis’ skin, cupping his cheek. The everyday hardness that pinched his features was nowhere to be seen as he searched Ignis’ eyes, his own soft and warm. “Do you want to chalk this up to harmless drunken flirting and go home?”

                Ignis smirked, boldly slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband of Gladio’s underwear. “We’ll see how I feel in the morning.”

                Gladio’s eyes widened in surprise. “Okay, I take it back; you’re still drunk.”

                “Ah, but sober enough to hail a cab. My place or yours?”

                “Shit, Ig, why aren’t you this bold all the time?” Gladio breathed, dipping his head and brushing his lips across Ignis’.

                “You’ve never given me an opportunity.”

                “You mean after all these years of flirting, stares from across the room, and what I thought was one-sided pining, all it took was a few drinks?” Eyes wide, Gladio gaped at the other man.

                Ignis chuckled, snapping the elastic and sliding his hands across Gladio’s abs. “Hardly. Did you not hear me when I invited you out this evening?”

                “Huh?” Gladio’s hand fell to Ignis’ shoulder.

                “I believe my exact words were _Would you care to join me on a date_.”

                Delayed realization dawned on Gladio’s face. “No freakin’ way. You planned this?”

                Ignis’ cheeks flushed. “Well, I never intended to invite myself into your bed after a single date…”

                Gladio yanked Ignis into a rough kiss. One hand went to the small of his back, pulling him close as their mouths opened to one another. Tongues playing, pushing against and sliding over each other’s, their eagerness and confidence masked any lack of experience. Both men moaned as they rocked their hips together.

                “I don’t judge,” Gladio said when they finally broke the kiss.

                Licking his lips and blinking slowly as he met Gladio’s gaze, Ignis deliberately pressed his hips against the other man’s again. “Then I’ll pose the question again; my place or yours?”

                Gladio didn’t have a chance to answer before Ignis was drawing him into another kiss.

                Though neither of them said it out loud, both men declared themselves the winner of this evening’s tipsy, impromptu sparring session.


End file.
